Winchester. Comest thou with deep premeditated lines,
With written pamphlets studiously devised,
Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse,
Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge,
Do it without invention, suddenly;
1225As I with sudden and extemporal speech
Purpose to answer what thou canst object.

Duke of Gloucester. Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience,
Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me.
Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
1230The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
That therefore I have forged, or am not able
Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen:
No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness,
Thy lewd, pestiferous and dissentious pranks,
1235As very infants prattle of thy pride.
Thou art a most pernicious usurer,
Forward by nature, enemy to peace;
Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems
A man of thy profession and degree;
1240And for thy treachery, what's more manifest?
In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
As well at London bridge as at the Tower.
Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
1245From envious malice of thy swelling heart.

Winchester. Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe
To give me hearing what I shall reply.
If I were covetous, ambitious or perverse,
As he will have me, how am I so poor?
1250Or how haps it I seek not to advance
Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?
And for dissension, who preferreth peace
More than I do?—except I be provoked.
No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
1255It is not that that hath incensed the duke:
It is, because no one should sway but he;
No one but he should be about the king;
And that engenders thunder in his breast
And makes him roar these accusations forth.
1260But he shall know I am as good—

Earl of Warwick. State holy or unhallow'd, what of that?
Is not his grace protector to the king?

Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). [Aside] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue,
1285Lest it be said 'Speak, sirrah, when you should;
Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?'
Else would I have a fling at Winchester.

Henry VI. Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester,
The special watchmen of our English weal,
1290I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,
To join your hearts in love and amity.
O, what a scandal is it to our crown,
That two such noble peers as ye should jar!
Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell
1295Civil dissension is a viperous worm
That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
[A noise within, 'Down with the tawny-coats!']What tumult's this?

Earl of Warwick. An uproar, I dare warrant,
1300Begun through malice of the bishop's men.

[A noise again, 'Stones! stones!' Enter Mayor]

Lord Mayor of London. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,
Pity the city of London, pity us!
The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men,
1305Forbidden late to carry any weapon,
Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones
And banding themselves in contrary parts
Do pelt so fast at one another's pate
That many have their giddy brains knock'd out:
1310Our windows are broke down in every street
And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops.

Duke of Gloucester. You of my household, leave this peevish broil
And set this unaccustom'd fight aside.

Third Serving-Man. My lord, we know your grace to be a man
Just and upright; and, for your royal birth,
Inferior to none but to his majesty:
1325And ere that we will suffer such a prince,
So kind a father of the commonweal,
To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,
We and our wives and children all will fight
And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes.
1330

First Serving-Man. Ay, and the very parings of our nails
Shall pitch a field when we are dead.

[Begin again]

Duke of Gloucester. Stay, stay, I say!
And if you love me, as you say you do,
1335Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.

Henry VI. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul!
Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
My sighs and tears and will not once relent?
Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
1340Or who should study to prefer a peace.
If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

Earl of Warwick. Yield, my lord protector; yield, Winchester;
Except you mean with obstinate repulse
To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm.
1345You see what mischief and what murder too
Hath been enacted through your enmity;
Then be at peace except ye thirst for blood.

Henry VI. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach
That malice was a great and grievous sin;
And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
1360But prove a chief offender in the same?

Earl of Warwick. Sweet king! the bishop hath a kindly gird.
For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent!
What, shall a child instruct you what to do?

Winchester. Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee;
1365Love for thy love and hand for hand I give.

Duke of Gloucester. [Aside] Ay, but, I fear me, with a hollow heart.—
See here, my friends and loving countrymen,
This token serveth for a flag of truce
Betwixt ourselves and all our followers:
1370So help me God, as I dissemble not!

Earl of Warwick. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign,
Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet
We do exhibit to your majesty.

Duke of Gloucester. Well urged, my Lord of Warwick: or sweet prince,
And if your grace mark every circumstance,
1385You have great reason to do Richard right;
Especially for those occasions
At Eltham Place I told your majesty.

Henry VI. And those occasions, uncle, were of force:
Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is
1390That Richard be restored to his blood.

Earl of Warwick. Let Richard be restored to his blood;
So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed.

Henry VI. Stoop then and set your knee against my foot;
And, in reguerdon of that duty done,
I gird thee with the valiant sword of York:
Rise Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
1405And rise created princely Duke of York.

Duke of Gloucester. Now will it best avail your majesty
To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France:
The presence of a king engenders love
1415Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends,
As it disanimates his enemies.

Henry VI. When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes;
For friendly counsel cuts off many foes.

Duke of Exeter. Ay, we may march in England or in France,
Not seeing what is likely to ensue.
This late dissension grown betwixt the peers
Burns under feigned ashes of forged love
1425And will at last break out into a flame:
As fester'd members rot but by degree,
Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away,
So will this base and envious discord breed.
And now I fear that fatal prophecy
1430Which in the time of Henry named the Fifth
Was in the mouth of every sucking babe;
That Henry born at Monmouth should win all
And Henry born at Windsor lose all:
Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish
1435His days may finish ere that hapless time.

[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE disguised, with four Soldiers]
[p]with sacks upon their backs]

Joan la Pucelle. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
1440Through which our policy must make a breach:
Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
That come to gather money for their corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
1445And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.

First Soldier. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Rouen;
1450Therefore we'll knock.

Bastard of Orleans. Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants;
Now she is there, how will she specify
Where is the best and safest passage in?
1465

Reignier. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is,
No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd.
[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE on the top, thrusting out a]torch burning]
1470

Joan la Pucelle. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbotites!

Joan la Pucelle. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
And run a tilt at death within a chair?

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite,
1505Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours!
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.
1510

Joan la Pucelle. Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
[The English whisper together in council]God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker?

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Signior, hang! base muleters of France!
Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

Joan la Pucelle. Away, captains! let's get us from the walls;
1525For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
God be wi' you, my lord! we came but to tell you
That we are here.

[Exeunt from the walls]

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. And there will we be too, ere it be long,
1530Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house,
Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France,
Either to get the town again or die:
And I, as sure as English Henry lives
1535And as his father here was conqueror,
As sure as in this late-betrayed town
Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried,
So sure I swear to get the town or die.

Duke of Bedford. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
That stout Pendragon in his litter sick
1550Came to the field and vanquished his foes:
Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts,
Because I ever found them as myself.

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
Then be it so: heavens keep old Bedford safe!
1555And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand
And set upon our boasting enemy.
[Exeunt all but BEDFORD and Attendants][An alarum: excursions. Enter FASTOLFE and]1560a Captain]

Duke of Bedford. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please,
For I have seen our enemies' overthrow.
What is the trust or strength of foolish man?
1575They that of late were daring with their scoffs
Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.

Duke of Burgundy. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects
Thy noble deeds as valour's monuments.
1585

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now?
I think her old familiar is asleep:
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?
What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
That such a valiant company are fled.
1590Now will we take some order in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers,
And then depart to Paris to the king,
For there young Henry with his nobles lie.

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:
A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court;
1600But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that's the end of human misery.

Joan la Pucelle. Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
For things that are not to be remedied.
Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
1610And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.

Charles, King of France. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence:
1615One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.

Bastard of Orleans. Search out thy wit for secret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.

Duke of Alencon. We'll set thy statue in some holy place,
And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint:
1620Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.

Joan la Pucelle. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
1625

Charles, King of France. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry's warriors;
Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
But be extirped from our provinces.

Duke of Alencon. For ever should they be expulsed from France
1630And not have title of an earldom here.

Joan la Pucelle. Your honours shall perceive how I will work
To bring this matter to the wished end.
[Drum sounds afar off]Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
1635Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
[Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over]at a distance, TALBOT and his forces]
There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
And all the troops of English after him.
1640[French march. Enter BURGUNDY and forces]Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
Summon a parley; we will talk with him.

Joan la Pucelle. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
1655By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, see the pining malady of France;
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
1660Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
O, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
1665Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country's stained spots.

Duke of Burgundy. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Joan la Pucelle. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
1670Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who joint'st thou with but with a lordly nation
That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France
And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
1675Who then but English Henry will be lord
And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
1680But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They set him free without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen
And joint'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
1685Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.

Duke of Burgundy. I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot,
And made me almost yield upon my knees.
1690Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
My forces and my power of men are yours:
So farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.

Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. My gracious prince, and honourable peers,
Hearing of your arrival in this realm,
I have awhile given truce unto my wars,
To do my duty to my sovereign:
1710In sign, whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim'd
To your obedience fifty fortresses,
Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength,
Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,
Lets fall his sword before your highness' feet,
1715And with submissive loyalty of heart
Ascribes the glory of his conquest got
First to my God and next unto your grace.

[Kneels]

Henry VI. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,
1720That hath so long been resident in France?

Henry VI. Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord!
When I was young, as yet I am not old,
I do remember how my father said
1725A stouter champion never handled sword.
Long since we were resolved of your truth,
Your faithful service and your toil in war;
Yet never have you tasted our reward,
Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks,
1730Because till now we never saw your face:
Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts,
We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;
And in our coronation take your place.

[Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but VERNON and BASSET]

Vernon. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea,
Disgracing of these colours that I wear
In honour of my noble Lord of York:
Darest thou maintain the former words thou spakest?

Basset. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage
1740The envious barking of your saucy tongue
Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.

Basset. Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such
That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death,
Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
But I'll unto his majesty, and crave
1750I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.

Vernon. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you;
And, after, meet you sooner than you would.